An irrational anger took her—anger at the police for not taking her seriously, at the smiling, laughing guests who were going on about their night as if nothing evil and horrible were going on right now, like her daughter about to be sold to the highest bidder.
And of course, she was angry at herself. If she hadn’t been such an ice queen, hadn’t kept her daughter at arm’s length, would she be where she was now? If she’d shown any of the people around her an iota of the gratitude she could have felt for the things they’d done for her and her daughter through the years, would she feel so alone?
That familiar burning was tickling the back of her eyes. She would not cry. Not here, not in front of everyone, some of whom would relish to see her weakness. A pinch to the soft flesh between her fingers did nothing.
Laughter farther ahead in the dark, recessed area of the hall brought her back to the present. A familiar laugh. Sickeningly so.
Why was Annabeth clear the hell back here? And not alone.
Curiosity had her walking down the hall, wanting to see what was going on. There was a door at the end, partially open, and from the sign next to it, this was another of the hotel’s smaller conference rooms. Inside there was faint light near the back of the room, and Meredith stood, thunderstruck for a moment by what she was seeing.
Annabeth. Her married friend, whose husband Meredith had still yet to see tonight, was sitting astride the city’s also married mayor in a pink chair. Her dress surrounded them both, but by the rising of Annabeth’s body, Meredith knew that they were doing more than sharing a conversation.
Immediately, Meredith shrank back so she was out of sight. She leaned against the wall, trying to calm the rage that was shaking her body.
Unbelievable. Did no one have any respect for the vows they took anymore? That trysts like this could cause untold pain and suffering to so many other people? Spouses? Children?
It was like walking in on Brian, her first husband, all over again, and she bent forward to catch her breath.
Annabeth’s behavior didn’t shock her, however, as much as the mayor’s hypocrisy. The man had built his political platform on family values, and when Meredith first came to him about her daughter, he’d had a trace of condescension in his tone, as if Meredith’s single-parent status had been the reason her daughter was missing.
She heard them finish and then whisper to each other as they pulled themselves together. So they could walk back out there, to their spouses, like nothing had happened.
The mayor left the room first, swaggering and strutting, unaware of her presence in the darkness of the hall. Annabeth took a little more time.
Meredith straightened and, before she could consider the wisdom of her decision, walked into the room, where Annabeth was reapplying lipstick.
“That was quite the performance, Annabeth. I hope you’re not that…generous with all your future guests.”
Annabeth barely glanced up as she continued dabbing at her lips. “That’s rich coming from someone who slept her way through three husbands and, with that latest bodyguard of yours, might be vying for husband number four? But he’d be a pretty big step down even for you.”
“This from the woman who married her personal trainer. You’re ridiculous, Annabeth. A cliché. Sleeping your way to the top. Most people would lie on their laurels, not their…” She looked pointedly down, not finishing the sentence.
Annabeth shook her head and dropped her lipstick in the small purse next to her. “Just like old times, huh, Meredith? The only reason you even had the power you did was because your daddy was one of the richest men in the state. If popularity rested on real merit, I would have been homecoming queen and head cheerleader. But it looks like it’s all turned out as it should.” She gave Meredith a pitying smile. “No career, no husband, no life. It’s actually pretty sad how completely underwhelming your life has become. Even your daughter knows—she’s probably halfway across the country trying to get away from your patheticness. Afraid you’ll just bring her down like you do everyone.”
Meredith was seeing red now. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself at the woman, smear the perfect bow she’d drawn on her lip down that smug face, tear out the perfectly coiled hair.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Focus her wrath into a verbal assault rather than a physical one.
“I could bury you. Your career,” Meredith said. “Look up in the corner over there. You might see there’s a video camera. A few tweets with a link to that video footage, and I’d bet this little scene between you and the illustrious mayor would go viral by midnight. Maybe you could use it as part of your marketing efforts when you’re trying to line up your next special guest.”
That got the woman’s attention as her face drained of color. She looked uneasily at the camera in the corner. “You’re lying. I doubt that’s even recording, let alone on.”
Meredith had some of the same doubts. But she had something the woman didn’t know about—her own personal camera on her dress. It would only take a few seconds of the footage to show exactly what the mayor liked to engage in and with whom.
“I’m not lying. You forget who booked this venue. I know that every camera in this place has a motion sensor, and I would lay bets the motions you two were making were more than enough to activate the cameras.”
Something in her tone must have convinced the woman she meant business, as Annabeth took a step forward, her eyes wide and imploring, and Meredith felt much of her rage dissipating. “Mer. You wouldn’t really do that. We might have our differences, but we go back a long way. We’ve helped each other as much as we’ve hurt each other. You’d kill my career.”
“Depends on what kind of career you’re talking about. I was pretty convinced that you should have a career in pictures.”
“It’s not just me you’d be hurting.”
With that statement, the rest of Meredith’s anger disappeared. Because Annabeth was right. For all his faults, the mayor had a wife. Family. Kids who didn’t need to be subjected to the humiliation of seeing their father cheating on their mother. Even Annabeth’s husband, while not the brightest bulb, was sweet and kind. His humiliation would be no less painful than Meredith’s had been.
Her shoulders sagged as she realized how despite everything she’d promised Travis—that she’d changed and wasn’t the same vindictive person—here she was back to her old tricks. She’d been mean. Baiting Annabeth. Trying to crush her just like the old days.
Her heart seemed to seize, and she steadied herself as she realized something else.
Everything, every word, every threat she’d just spoken, had been overheard. Watched. By Meems…and Travis.
“Just go, Annabeth. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
Annabeth studied her for a minute, her face uncertain, then she nodded, and head held high, swept out of the room.
Shit. What had she done?
All this time she’d been trying to convince Travis that she was different. That she’d changed. But here, at her first opportunity to show she was the better person and let the occasion go by without trying to reap anything for herself, she’d sunk her teeth in, ready to draw blood.
She walked back into the hall, making her way toward the light in the main foyer. A tall figure walked toward her and she knew with a sinking heart who it was before his hand gripped her arm, pulling her back into the corner.
Travis’s face was ragged and fierce. The look in his eyes, even in this darkness, was of rancor. Disgust.
He was going to hate her forever now. She was going to lose everything.
Chapter Sixteen
Travis had spent much of the night watching Meredith effortlessly work the room, particularly with such preeminent figures as the Salt Lake bishop and the city’s mayor. She was glorious, and it had made him proud and humbled to know her, to know that he had her trust and, hopefully, more.
Until the moment she’d confronted Annabeth, threatened her with what some mig
ht call blackmail, all to settle an old score. Sure, the woman had been catty and mean, but Meredith had led him to believe that she was different. And unlike yesterday at Annabeth’s studio, when she’d acted admirably and let the woman’s insinuations roll off her back, Meredith had jumped back in, claws out.
Worse, he couldn’t help but wonder, how far would she go if she really had that footage? If she could somehow convince Meems to release it to her, would she hold it over Annabeth’s head for the next decade?
His gut twisted, and he realized what he should have known all along. She was the same. Would always be the same. Ready to roast someone, publicly humiliate them, and for what? A moment’s satisfaction that would taste bitter, like embers in her mouth, when she was done. Only she didn’t think that far ahead. Just in that moment.
Now she stood before him, her face a mix of sorrow. Regret.
And it killed him to know how easily he could just try and forget what had happened, to let himself completely fall for this woman. Until the day he misstepped, caused her some grievance, and she made him pay as only she knew how.
But he didn’t have time for this. He had a job to do. He just wanted to make sure she was neutralized.
“You’re wanted inside,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. Cold. “I think you have a speech.”
“Travis, I don’t know what came over me, but you have to know that as soon as I did it, I regretted it and tried—”
But he wasn’t going to hear it and strode away. She could give her excuses later, for all the good it would do her. For now he needed to continue what he’d been hired to do so he could finish the job and get the hell out of town.
He heard Meredith enter the bathroom as he continued down the hall.
“Travis, don’t be too pissed at her,” Meems said through his earpiece.
Damn microphones. She’d have heard everything, as he had, of course. “Annabeth is a real piece of work, and if you lived here, the honorable mayor and his high moral ground on family values make everything we saw the cherry on top.”
Be that as it may, it didn’t change the fact that after all Meredith’s promises that she had changed, it took only one moment for her to revert back to her old habits.
He didn’t need this now. It was symptomatic of Meredith’s problem. She lashed out. No prisoners, taking everyone down. Like him before and countless others.
“Look, I don’t want to talk about this. What can you tell me about what you’re seeing? Anything I should know?”
“Actually, yes. I’ve spotted a couple of undercover detectives from the police department.” He didn’t even ask her how she knew. “They must have been listening to you to some extent. One’s right inside the entrance. To your right,” she said as he walked in.
Travis would never have pegged him as SLCPD. In a tux with the slicked-back brown hair and blue eyes, he looked like any of the other high-class attendees at this soiree.
“That’s Detective Johnson. Don’t let his polish fool you. He’s actually pretty good at what he does.” Again, he’d trust her at her word. “I’m only telling you this because he might be a possible ally tonight. If you should need it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else?”
“No, but it’s nearing ten, and I’m worried that whoever this guy is, he’ll probably be looking to leave soon.”
He had to agree. “Make sure to keep an eye on all the exits. I want an identification of anyone who leaves in the next half hour.”
“Got it.”
He glanced around, trying to look casual. Somewhere out here was a man who was holding God knew how many girls hostage at this moment, girls who were about to go to the highest bidder in less than two hours if he didn’t do anything to stop him.
No distractions.
Least of all from the woman sitting in that bathroom, alone. Scared and dejected. But also feeling the repercussions of the choices she had made.
She was strangely silent, though.
He checked the link he had on his cell phone to the equipment he’d decked her out with.
Damn. Nothing. He was getting nothing. He’d take bets that she’d taken off the brooch and earpiece.
So he couldn’t be in her head.
Maybe that was a good thing. For now. He didn’t need to hear anything more that Meredith had to say.
…
With her held as high as she could without running into a wall, Meredith had walked back toward the ladies’ room. She’d locked the stall behind her and shut the lid, then taken a seat and dropped her camera and earpiece in the canister meant for sanitary items.
There was no reason Meems and Travis had to share in her humiliation. That her life had come down to her sitting on a toilet, hiding in the women’s restroom from all the messes she’d made in her life.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, drowning in her misery, before someone tapped softly at the stall door.
“Meredith? Are you in there?” It was Allie.
Exactly what she didn’t need. A witness to her final breakdown.
“Yeah. Just a second.” She pulled a swath of tissue from the roll and wiped the dampness from her cheeks and under her eyes carefully. Hell. Who was she kidding? Her eyes were probably twice their normal size from the amount of crying she’d done. She stood and opened the door.
“When you didn’t show up to give your speech, I knew something had to be wrong,” Allie said, following her to the sink. “I hope you don’t mind that Sam’s giving it on your behalf.”
The speech. That’s right.
“No, that’s fine. I’m glad someone was being responsible.” She washed her hands, taking her time before grabbing some towels and drying them.
Allie continued to study her face. In a softer voice, she continued, “You’ve been crying. Is it Darcy? You know Travis will find her, and everything…”
Not again. After everything Meredith had done to this woman, Allie was still trying to be supportive. Trying to make Meredith feel better.
“Allie, I know it’s fifteen years too late and you have no reason to believe me, but I am sorry for how I treated you back in high school.” As if a dam was unleashed, Meredith’s words came out in a torrent. “I’m sorry I told you that Sam and I hooked up at that party all those years ago. I’m sorry I mocked you and tried to humiliate you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t the friend you deserved.”
“It’s okay, Meredith. Well, it is now. I’ll be honest, that rumor devastated me. In so many ways, not just because I was so crazy about Sam back then, but because it was you, my friend who’d known me since we were kids. I’ve spent a lot of years hating you, but I don’t want to hate you anymore. It’s so…exhausting.” Allie smiled, her eyes warm and welcoming. Not harboring any ill will. Just like that.
She was a good person, and Meredith had a lot to make up for. “I was so jealous of you back then, Allie. I couldn’t see past it and instead used you as a scapegoat for all the problems in my life.”
Allie laughed. “You were jealous of me? You’re forgetting I was the geeky fat girl back then and you were the head cheerleader and homecoming queen. What on earth could you have been jealous about?”
Meredith sighed. “Everything. Your joy in all things, the love and support of your family, and maybe, being honest, a little jealousy over how much my own dad looked at me and wished I could be more like you. Something that I now see echoed in my daughter’s eyes. Her wishing I could be more like you.”
“Aw, Mer. Darcy loves you. Anyone can see that. We might be friends, but you’re…her mother. And I know she’d do anything for you. Just like you would for her.”
Meredith looked into those guileless blue eyes, the sweet smile of the woman she’d hated for too long. Silly, really. She wasn’t that bad.
She might have smiled a little back. “Thanks, Allie.”
“Any time, Mer. I’ll see you out there,” she said and left Meredith alone.
Who knew? Maybe after all this
was over and she had Darcy back, she and Allie might become friends again.
Time was running out and here she was moping like a petulant kid. She had to get back out there. Someone at the gala had the answers.
She turned toward the mirror for one last checkup and actually gasped. Her face was wan and pale, her puffy eyes almost sunk back in her face.
She looked like the dead.
Grasping in her purse, she pulled out a lipstick and powder compact. If she was going to get anything accomplished, she had to look and act like she was in total control.
Over the speakers, she heard Sam’s smooth voice start to talk. He was thanking tonight’s vendors, something she ought to be doing. She was really going to have to make it up to him and Allie. Doing all of this despite what she’d done to hurt them—
She froze as Sam mentioned one of the night’s contributors. A contributor whose insignia she’d seen several times the last few days. On a delivery truck parked behind the club. On several boxes stacked by the door that her captor had carried her past on their way up the stairs.
It wasn’t a coincidence. In fact, suddenly, everything fit into place.
She knew who had her daughter.
…
Travis studied the crowd from his spot in the corner. A few faces were familiar, former teachers and friends, but tonight wasn’t the night to play catch-up. Their time was dwindling, and he had shit to go on.
Curiosity brought him to Detective Johnson’s side. He’d noticed the guy at the police station last night, but they hadn’t been introduced. “Detective.”
From the look the guy gave him, he recognized Travis, too. “You’re not going to go all maverick tonight, are you, Brennan?”
Guy knew his last name, too. Must have been paying attention. “I’m going to make sure that none of those girls are sold or transported anywhere, if that’s what you mean.”
Johnson shifted his position. “You’re not holding anything back from us, are you? If you have something, you should share it so you don’t risk any more lives.”
Any more? Travis laughed. That was rich. He’d found the girls for the police, delivered the bad guys right to the cops, and he’d risked lives? But he only shook his head. “This isn’t a competition. I’m just doing right by my client. By those girls.”
Love You Madly Page 17
